06-09-2017, 12:05 AM
More people arriving at the food hall - or whatever they called this place - did not bother him. He noticed a nigh nude man shoveling heaps of food onto his plates. Plates plural, that is, he clearly could not finish all of that. Then again, Takezo was on his third plate. He was famished more than he had realized. Even now, he was plucking a few more items here an there onto his plate.
Instead of returning to his original seat, he decided to place his tray beside Dust's before sitting down. "It's strange... seeing a naked man in public. Sober." He suggested he had seen his fair share of men drunk and naked in public. To be fair, Takezo should not be judging others based on their appearance, he still bore the blood of another, stained into his white under shirt with a streak dried into the stubble of his jawline.
The man adjusted his weapon for comfort, then took up his chopsticks. "I was almost expecting nothing but abominations to compete in this... Dante's ordeal. Have you seen the walking calamari yet?" The inquiry was left in the air as he filled his maw with a large chunk of seseme chicken. A second trip from plate to mouth, his chipsticks add a bundle of noodles to go with it, which he slurped noisily - a compliment to the chef.
It was unusual for Takezo to approach a possible rival and start up an idle chat, but he had his reasons. As it stands, he was in the dark about the competition. There were a few whispers of killings, but he had not read most of the paperwork he signed. He was far too eager to test his mettle and his metal against other immortals of this world. The idea almost had him itching with anticipation.
Instead of returning to his original seat, he decided to place his tray beside Dust's before sitting down. "It's strange... seeing a naked man in public. Sober." He suggested he had seen his fair share of men drunk and naked in public. To be fair, Takezo should not be judging others based on their appearance, he still bore the blood of another, stained into his white under shirt with a streak dried into the stubble of his jawline.
The man adjusted his weapon for comfort, then took up his chopsticks. "I was almost expecting nothing but abominations to compete in this... Dante's ordeal. Have you seen the walking calamari yet?" The inquiry was left in the air as he filled his maw with a large chunk of seseme chicken. A second trip from plate to mouth, his chipsticks add a bundle of noodles to go with it, which he slurped noisily - a compliment to the chef.
It was unusual for Takezo to approach a possible rival and start up an idle chat, but he had his reasons. As it stands, he was in the dark about the competition. There were a few whispers of killings, but he had not read most of the paperwork he signed. He was far too eager to test his mettle and his metal against other immortals of this world. The idea almost had him itching with anticipation.